Prank Wars
by JenRar
Summary: The prank war between Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid that started in season 7, episode 4 "Painless" , continues until something happens that makes them realize maybe they pushed it a bit too far. M/G pairing. Rated T for a few adult words.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I started writing this months ago, right after "Painless," Season 7 Episode 4. Reid & Morgan had a bit of a prank war going on, and I just had the idea to continue it. It doesn't fit in with the rest of the season or anything. It's just a fun little story (and of course, Morgan & Garcia are a couple. I can't do anything but. ;) ). Enjoy! And if you've forgotten, here's a link to check out what led to this story: www. youtube watch?v=O5ZGdvHNhWc Just take out the spaces (or go to YouTube and search for Morgan and Reid prank war). The characters (minus Gina and a few random people) and show belong to CBS and whoever. The rest of it is mine._

~oooOOOooo~

**Chapter 1**

Derek wasn't sure whether to fume or laugh about the Reid-scream from not only his iPod but his phone, as well. How the kid had managed to make it so Penelope's number came up, only to have it be "the scream" again, he didn't know. He was impressed...and irritated. Reid knew Derek liked to decompress in the plane on the way home as he listened to music, and he'd taken away that outlet by rendering his iPod useless. What the hell was he supposed to do n—

_Penelope..._

Looking at his phone and the still barely-able-to-contain-his-grin Reid, Derek wondered if it would actually work right if he tried to make a call. Tentatively, he pressed the first button on his speed dial and held it up a few inches from his ear. When the phone started ringing, he breathed an almost inaudible sigh of relief.

So far, so good.

"_Penelope's Lair of All Things Delicious. How may I fulfill your desires tonight?_"

Her low, sexy voice shot straight through Derek, and he had to work to hold back his groan. "Baby Girl," he murmured. "You do know how to take my mind off things."

He grinned when Rossi rolled his eyes and shot him a smirk.

"_What's up, buttercup?_" she quipped. "_You sound frustrated._"

Derek moved to the small galley to continue his conversation, not wanting to give the kid the satisfaction of hearing him grinch about it to Garcia. Once he was as secluded as he was going to get, he quickly recounted the whole, sordid story to his girl, glaring at the phone when she giggled.

"Baby..." Derek growled playfully, "you aren't supposed to be on his side."

"_Sorry, lover, I'm not,_" she purred in response. When he didn't respond immediately, she added, "_Is there anything I can do to make up for my lack of an appropriate response? A lack of appropriate clothing, perhaps?_"

Derek did groan then, even more glad he'd moved away from the group so they wouldn't see his immediate reaction to her words.

"That would be a start," he agreed in a deep, gravelly tone.

"Then that is what I shall do," she said cheerfully. "Still want to do Thai at my place?"

"Yes, ma'am," Derek answered, adjusting himself once as he willed the image of Penelope wearing little to nothing away before heading back to his seat.

"_I'll pick up dinner on my way home, then, sugar,_" Pen told him. "_You just get __your cute little butt over as soon as that plane lands. I'll take care of the rest._"

"Thanks, Baby Girl," Derek said, grateful once again that the two of them had finally come to their senses while searching for Prentiss and had become a couple once she'd ended things with Lynch. "See you in a few."

She made a few kissy noises into the phone, making Derek grin and shake his head before hanging up.

"Garcia make it all better?" Rossi asked as Derek slid into his seat.

Derek grinned. "She always does."

Since he didn't have anything to listen to, thanks to the Scream Queen, Derek closed his eyes and began to plot. He couldn't go the fake dog poop or vomit route. That was too tame. No, something like this required finesse. Whatever prank he ended up choosing, he'd have Reid crying "Uncle!" before it was all over.

That thought put a smile on Derek's face, and he let himself skirt the edge of sleep, thinking of prank wars and Garcia in next to nothing.

~oOo~

Penelope sighed happily as Derek the Cuddler curled himself around her on the bed. They'd barely made it through their dinner of Chicken Satay, Pad Thai, Mango Curry, and Pepper Beef before falling into bed. She was actually surprised he'd lasted that long, but when his stomach had growled shortly after walking through the door of her apartment, she'd declared dinner first, sex second.

_When she heard the key in the lock, Penelope grabbed a beer out of the fridge and set both it and her glass of wine on the table, turning back just as Derek walked through the door. As soon as he looked up, she dropped the robe, revealing her black on black corset._

_She'd fallen in love with it a few days before when she'd gone shopping with Em and JJ, just before the team had left for the case in Idaho. There were soft ruffles around the top edge of the sweetheart bust line, a small satin bow right in the center, and a band of the ruffles around the bottom edge, with bows on either side where the optional garters could go—which Penelope had foregone. The bodice had black boning throughout and small black polka dots, giving it a fun, flirty, but definitely sexy look. She had paired it with black cheeky panties and black kitten heels._

_Derek swallowed hard, dropped his keys and phone on the small table beside the door, and moved to gather her in his arms. Penelope had just enough time to press her hands to his chest, gripping his shirt, before his lips were on hers._

Thinking about how Derek's growling belly had interrupted their passionate kiss made her giggle.

His arms tightened around her before he asked, his voice husky, "What's so funny, baby? You weren't laughing a minute ago."

Instead of responding verbally, she just turned over to face him and kissed him, interrupting his train of thought.

"You feeling better now?" she asked, running a hand down the stubble on his cheek, scratching lightly at the skin with her nails.

Derek growled low in his throat and shook his head. "I gotta get him back somehow." He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. "By the way, did you make that call? I've been thinking about it, and I can't figure out how he did it."

"No..." Penelope drawled out as she puzzled for a second. Then, as the lightbulb switched on in her head, she began to grin. "Ah! I had no idea that's what she was doing."

"Who?" Derek asked, raising a single eyebrow.

The expression on his face showed a cross between frustration and humor, so she kept her usual dramatics at bay.

"Gina, from Tech Services," she answered. "She and Reid go to some chess club or something together, I think."

"What does she have to do with anything?"

Penelope almost laughed at how confused Derek looked, but she held it in, knowing he wouldn't appreciate her amusement.

"She came rushing into my office a couple of minutes before you called and asked if she could borrow my phone. She said Reid had asked her to do him a favor." Penelope shrugged one shoulder as she continued. "I told her sure, not a problem. I didn't realize it was you she'd called until later."

"You heard the noise?" Derek clarified.

Nodding, she said, "Yes, she had a little voice recorder and held it up to the phone after dialing. Scared the toot out of me when I heard Boy Wonder's scream."

Derek smirked. "Damn, the kid is good, I gotta give him that. I didn't expect him to bring in outside help."

Penelope started shaking her head when he turned a gleeful grin and hopeful expression her way. "Oh no, buddy," she said firmly. "You aren't dragging me into this. You boys have fun. Mama is staying _out_ of it!"

~oooOOOooo~

_A/N: Uh oh! lol What do you think the boys will get up to? What's Morgan planning? Please review & let me know what you think!_

_Thank you to KricketWilliams for looking this over with her red pen and to Deb and Cara for prereading it for me. :)  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Well, I don't know if Criminal Minds fans have all disappeared or if no one is interested. Thank you to Pumehana & writersblock24, who reviewed chapter 1 so sweetly! I hope they and whoever might be lurking enjoys. :) Disclaimer still applies.**

~oooOOOooo~

**Chapter 2**

A week after the case in Boise, Derek was still stewing over what he could do to get back at Reid for the iPod/phone prank he'd pulled. He'd gone over what had to be a hundred ideas in his head, but nothing was jumping out at him. Everything was either too silly, way too involved and complicated—or couldn't be played at work.

Hotch had warned them both before leaving the plane the previous week that if they continued to pull pranks, it had to be tame enough not to catch the attention of Strauss, and no more while on a case—even if it were a small thing. His warning look to Derek had made him feel bad about having pulled the press one in the middle of the case, and he had apologized to both Hotch and Reid. He didn't like apologizing, but when he was wrong, he was wrong.

That didn't mean he wasn't going to get the kid back, though. Hell no. It was on like Donkey Kong.

However, that had been seven days ago, and he was still not a single step closer to figuring out what to pull on Reid. It was distracting, to say the least—so much so that even Rossi noticed.

"What's eating at you, kid?" Rossi asked, dropping into the seat across from Derek in the cafeteria.

Derek gratefully accepted the fresh cup of coffee the older man slid across the table. "I can't decide on what to pull on Reid to get back at him for the whole scream thing on the plane last week," Derek admitted. "None of the old pranks I've pulled—the Vaseline on the phone handset, fake turds...that type of thing—will work here. I'm kind of out of ideas."

Rossi sipped his own coffee and then looked up at Derek with a smirk. "I've got an idea."

~oOo~

Two days later, Derek was sitting across from Prentiss, listening to her telling JJ about her last date, while he waited for Reid to make his way into the bullpen. He was feeling rather frustrated. Reid had gone down the hall for coffee a few minutes earlier and still wasn't back. Derek could be patient when needed, but right now, he wasn't feeling it. He was almost positive this prank was going to fail, so he was a little anxious.

A noise at the door to the big room caught Derek's attention, and he looked up to see Reid walk through, talking animatedly on the cell phone at his ear. As always when he was excited or completely absorbed in what he was doing, Reid paid little to no attention to his surroundings.

Derek held his breath as Reid walked by, still speaking to whoever was on the other end of the line.

"No, no, no, Gunnar! You're completely out of line. The Cardassian voles are first when it comes to original _Star Trek_ creatures. Tribbles are last. Not the other way around."

As Derek had hoped he would, Reid pulled his desk chair out and began to sit without even glancing at the seat.

"Listen, I know what I am talking about. Remember, I spent—_Sonofabitch!_ What was that?"

Reid had sat down hard on the chair, expelling the air from the whoopee cushion Derek had placed there a few minutes before.

"No, Gunnar, not you, sorry." He stood and grabbed the now deflated rubber bag from the seat of the chair.

Derek lost the last tenuous hold he had on his amusement and began laughing, a deep belly laugh that quickly gave him a stitch in his side, as Reid finished his phone conversation.

"I need to go, Gunnar," Reid said, glaring at Derek. "Yes, I'll talk to you then."

Still laughing, Derek watched Reid toss his phone to his desk, and then the younger man hurled the whoopee cushion at him with surprising force. It bounced off Derek's shoulder, landing on the floor by Prentiss's desk.

"Really, Morgan?" he yelled. "A damned whoopee cushion? Is that the best you've got? _Really?_"

Derek tried to stop laughing, but when he noticed JJ and Prentiss both holding in their own laughter, he was unable to. A fresh snort escaped his lips as he gasped, "Oh, man! The look on your face, kid..."

Standing, he walked happily out of the bullpen to head back to his office, whistling his amusement the whole way.

~oooOOOooo~

**A/N: Really? A whoopee cushion? *laugh* I hope you enjoyed. ;) Leave me a review & let me know, please!**


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer still applies._

~oooOOOooo~

**Chapter 3**

Spencer had spent two weeks barely speaking to Morgan except when needed for work. The other man had tried multiple times to engage him in conversation, but each time, Spencer had shot him a hard look and walked away. He may have been a certified genius, but coming up with a plan of retaliation was proving to be more than this genius could handle. Now, he was awake in the middle of the night, unable to sleep for thinking of what that idiotic, sophomoric jackass had done.

"Whoopee cushion," Spencer muttered, flipping over and pounding his pillow. "An eight-year-old child would come up with something better than that!"

Two minutes later, he rolled over to the other side. What grown man thinks of flatulence to prank one of his peers? Spencer was far more advanced than that.

Frustrated, he climbed out of bed, determined to find a way to manipulate the situation in his favor. He pulled on a pair of boxers, not comfortable in the least about sitting in front of the computer in the buff.

After opening the browser, Spencer typed in "gag gifts and novelties," bouncing a knee as he waited for the results to load in Google. The first website that came up was _Things You Never Knew Existed_, which Spencer almost skipped, considering he highly doubted that was the case. He wasn't being arrogant... He simply knew about a lot of things.

He skipped right to the Novelties category, clicking to expand the list. Magic Tricks caught his attention, but he eyed the two trunks on the other side of the living room and knew that now was not the time to shop for more. Instead, he clicked on Gags.

There were lots of things he skipped without taking a second look, like disappearing ink, Magic 8 Ball, and squirt toys. A few things caught his eye, like the animated "realistic" busy bugs—which didn't look all that realistic to him...where were their exoskeletons?—and the hair brush for bald men. He couldn't think of anything to really use as a prank, so he looked back to the list.

Shocking Things was a bust; there were only two things in that category, and neither sparked any interest in him.

_Sparked,_ Spencer thought to himself, smirking at his unintended pun.

Turning to the last category—he was going to completely skip the Risque Things—he clicked in to view the Remote Control items. He had almost given up—they were mainly just regular remote control cars, boats, and the like—when the least likely object caught his eye.

_Remote Control Fart Machine 2_

_Great,_ Spencer thought. _Back to the fart jokes._

But the more he thought about it, the more he warmed to the idea. After all, what better way to fight fire than with fire?

Before he could convince himself otherwise, he changed the quantity from zero to one and clicked Add To Cart.

~oOo~

It took a week for the little gizmo to get to him, but as soon as he saw the padded envelope containing the noise maker, Spencer tore open the packaging and unpacked the silly looking thing. For a moment, he blanched; he couldn't believe he'd stooped so low as to buy the thing. He wasn't a six-year-old boy anymore. Bodily functions hadn't been funny to him in a long time. And yet...

Well, at least his was a _technologically advanced_ fart joke, so it was far superior than the juvenile gag Morgan had played.

That fact alone spurred him on, the desire to best Derek Morgan at his own game giving him an incentive to take the gadget apart and make it work on his level.

For two days, as soon as Spencer got home from work, he sat at the kitchen table in his small apartment, moving this piece here, that piece there...crossing these wires and clipping those. Finally, he was satisfied with his results.

_Yes,_ Spencer thought smugly. _Tomorrow is the day he will get his comeuppance._

~oOo~

The redesigned piece of electronics, along with the small remote control and a small sewing kit, went into his satchel, which Spencer kept close to him until he got to the bullpen at work. He would put his plan into action come lunchtime, when he knew Morgan would be out of the office with Garcia.

Over the next few hours, both JJ and Prentiss asked him several times if something was wrong. He was apparently acting rather jumpy and nervous—very un-Reid-like, they'd said. He had played it off as not feeling well; he didn't know if they believed him, but he was too keyed up to worry much about it.

Just before lunch, Morgan walked into the bullpen with his hand on Garcia's lower back.

"Hey, Boy Wonder," Garcia said with a grin. "Everyone else is joining us for lunch at the sub shop. You want to come?"

Spencer did his best to put on a look of regret before shaking his head no. "I'm going to put my head down. I'm not feeling so hot today."

"Oh, my poor sweetums," Garcia cooed. "Why don't you go to my office and lie down on the couch, okay? Rest up, love bug. You'll kick it faster that way."

_Perfect..._ Spencer thought as he worked to keep the grin off his face. _I'll be that much closer to Morgan's office._

"You know, I think I will," he said aloud. "Thanks, Garcia." He smiled at her, and she patted his arm once before turning away.

He hated deceiving Garcia—as well as Prentiss and JJ. Really, they'd done nothing wrong, and lying to them seemed too much like an Unsub. But it had to be done to make this _Missing: Accomplished_.

Spencer watched Prentiss and JJ gather their things as Hotch and Rossi joined the group on the bullpen floor and then echoed their goodbyes. After waiting a couple of minutes to make sure they were gone, he nearly sprinted out the doors and down the hall.

Once the coast was clear, he let himself into Morgan's office—Morgan himself had taught Spencer to pick a lock, so he had no one to blame but himself—and closed the door behind him. It took him no time at all to find what he was looking for, and with an almost too-excited grin, sat down and got to work.

~oOo~

Derek walked Garcia to the elevator. "See you in a couple of hours, Baby Girl. I'll bring dinner after my class is over."

She nodded. "Sounds good. Have fun!"

He stole a kiss, and then loaded her onto the elevator, reaching in to press the button for the garage. She gave a finger wave as the doors closed between them.

Checking his watch, Derek realized he had fifteen minutes to get changed and meet the new recruits downstairs in the gym. He hurried back to his office and grabbed the gym bag, which contained his sneakers, sweats, and t-shirt. After taking the stairs down, he made it to the locker room and was changed and out in the training area with five minutes to spare.

"Hey, Agent Morgan," a young brown haired man exclaimed as he came into the gym.

"Evening," Derek replied. "Agent Samson, isn't it?"

The young man grinned. "Tommy," he said with a nod, before moving away to start stretching.

This was the third class of new recruits Derek had worked with—and he was only a few classes in with this group. He taught them self defense and take down moves for use on the job; he was good at it and he enjoyed it, which was why he had volunteered for the second and third groups after being roped into teaching the first.

Within the next couple of minutes, more of the group came into the gym and joined Tommy, stretching their muscles and preparing for the lesson. Most were wearing sweats like Derek. A few were in shorts, but all were wearing matching FBI t-shirts.

Derek preferred to teach the class indoors, where there were mats for them to land on when practicing throws and take downs. But that meant they would all work up a sweat, so the AC was already running, making it rather cool in there for the moment.

As soon as the class had stretched, he said, "All right, guys, let's quickly go over the things you learned from last week." He pointed to two guys off to the side. "Agents Stephens and Riley, show us The Crash. Riley, you're attacker."

The two men moved to the front of the group, facing one another. Agent Riley threw a right cross, which Stephens blocked, before grasping the other man's arm and clumsily pulling him toward his body while raising his knee, aiming for Riley's midsection. Unfortunately, the man's body was turned just enough that his knee completely missed, skirting off Riley's hip and leaving Stephens open for a re-attack.

"Hold up," Derek called, moving to them. "Don't angle yourself so much. Watch me once." He motioned for Riley to attack.

In an exaggerated slow movement, Derek showed the class again how to position his body so when he raised his leg, it was right in line with Riley's breadbasket.

The moment he raised his knee, a loud farting sound ripped through the air, seeming to originate from Derek's ass.

"What the hell?" Derek barked, looking behind himself.

The class chuckled.

"Aww, Teach," a smart-ass recruit in the back called. "It's natural. Nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Shut up, Frankie," Derek grumbled. "Now, Stephens, you try again."

As he watched the men go through the movements again, Derek thought to himself how odd that had been, because he hadn't felt anything, like he normally did when he passed gas. He shrugged it off, figuring it had come from Riley and the sound had just bounced off the gym's walls.

"Better," he said to the men. "Next!" He pointed to two more recruits.

After they had all had a chance to run through the moves they'd learned the first two weeks, he brought up another eager looking young man to use with the demonstration of a new move.

"This is the Takedown Defense," he said to the class. "If an attacker is attempting to tackle you to the ground, wait for him to rush you. When he goes for your leg, take a step back with that same leg. Bend at the waist and bring your elbow into his shoulder and neck, throwing him off balance, and then hit him with a hook to the jaw." He gestured for the "attacker" to advance. "Watch me."

The guy went for Derek's right leg, so he took a step back, and then leaned over, aiming his elbow to land the gentle-for-now blow to the other man's shoulder, when another loud, echoing noise rang through the gym.

This time, the whole class burst into laughter. Derek was still bewildered—and frankly, a lot more embarrassed. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but he certainly wasn't enjoying being the subject of their laughter—and he sure as hell wasn't busting wind.

"Back to work!" he called. "Again."

This time, he was able to complete the move without further issue.

After the class had practiced that for a time, he said, "All right, one more move for tonight."

Jogging over to the edge of the mat where he'd left the prop he needed for the next move, he bent down to pick up the collapsible knife, and heard a quiet but again, embarrassing, squeak, like you'd hear when you stretched the neck of a balloon as the air was escaping—or like when you had your butt cheeks tightened as you let one loose.

_Fucking hell,_ Derek growled to himself.

Luckily, it seemed no one else in the room had heard that one, so he made his way back to the group and picked someone to demonstrate the proper way to disarm an attacker who was carrying a blade.

He ran through the steps once as the defender, and then told the recruit to switch, wanting to go through it as the attacker once to demonstrate another move the attacker might make. When the recruit yanked his arm—albeit gently!—behind his back and forced Derek down, with his ass up in the air, Derek let out the loudest, longest gassy noise yet.

The recruit gagged and dropped Derek's arm, backing away quickly as he and the rest of the class began laughing and backing away.

At that moment, understanding dawned on Derek...

Reid. He'd bet a million dollars Reid was behind this.

"Uh, Agent Morgan," a timid voice called. "Maybe you should visit the bathroom while we practice."

"Yeah," Derek grumbled. Something was rotten...and it certainly wasn't emanating from his ass. "I'll do that. Keep working, everyone."

As he stepped into the locker room, he saw a big note taped to one of the lockers with his last name in big letters and a suspiciously familiar figure exiting just as the other door slid closed.

Derek stalked over to the paper and ripped it off the locker, turning it over to read a note in Reid's distinctive script:

"_You wanted a flatulence joke? The joke's on you. Your turn, Morgan."_

_Oh, kid..._ Derek thought, laughing as he crumpled up the paper and shooting a three pointer into the trash can in the corner of the room. _Bring it._


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer still applies._

~oooOOOooo~

**Chapter 4**

Derek slammed the door of his house, obviously startling Penelope, who whirled around from her seat on the couch with her hand on her chest.

"God, D, you scared me!" she gasped, glaring at him.

He watched as her expression turned from mutinous to concerned in a split second.

"What happened?" she asked, moving quickly to him. "Did you have a run in with Strauss?"

Shaking his head, he growled, "Do you know how many times I've gotten called that ridiculous nickname?" At her raise of a single eyebrow in question, he said, "Twenty-seven times, Penelope. And that's just in the last three days!"

It had all started the morning after the incident at the rookies' training session, as he walked from Hotch's office to his own after their morning meeting.

_Derek tucked the file Hotch had given him under his arm, said a quick good morning to the others, who were sitting around doing their own paperwork at their desks, and headed out the door of the bullpen. Just as he was walking through the door, a junior agent from White Collar Crimes was walking in. Derek held the door for the other man and gave him a nod._

"_Thanks, Agent Mor_gas_," the younger man said with a smirk._

_Derek turned, sure he'd heard the other man wrong. "What did you call me?"_

_The agent froze, his eyes widening like a deer in the headlights. "Uh, n-nothing, A-Agent M-Morgan, sir," he stammered._

_Watching as the guy hauled ass—pun intended—away from him, Derek shook his head, figuring the trauma of the night before had him hearing things._

"D," Penelope said soothingly, "it's not that big a deal. Let them get it out of their system..." She paused, giggling, and laughed harder when Derek glared at her again. "They'll stop soon."

"It wasn't even me, P!" he exclaimed, giving his head a disgusted shake. "You saw me find that damn noise machine part the kid put in the waistband of my sweats. I knew I'd seen him running away like a coward when I walked into the locker room. I told them that last night at the gym. It didn't matter. I still heard it all day today."

"Well, you have to admit," she said, grinning, "the nickname fits...your fault or not. Morgan. Mor_gas_. It's kind of clever."

Derek shook his head again, his stomach still roiling in anger. Sure, it was a little thing—nothing worth getting his dander up about. He'd even tried laughing it off...but after the third or fourth time, it got old _real_ quick.

"Come on, Hot Stuff," Penelope said softly. "Think I can take your mind off that silly name?"

When Penelope turned and began pulling off her clothes slowly as she walked toward his bedroom, all Derek could think of was, _What name?_

~oOo~

A couple of days later, Derek was still upset because while he'd only gotten called that ridiculous Mor_gas_ name eight times the day before at work, that was eight times too many—and four of those had come from Spencer Reid himself.

Oh, he wasn't angry anymore... It was all part of the war going on between the two men, and Derek knew that. But he was determined not to let the kid win this one, and after some research the night before, he had a good idea of some things he could do that would annoy the good doctor, and none of them would be hard to implement.

Just before he left the house, he looked longingly at his snuggly girl, all warm and soft in his bed, before leaving her sleeping in peace. He knew she'd be up soon and at work shortly after, but he needed to get some things done so he'd have time to pull off the prank before the morning briefing.

By the time the rest of the team—including Reid—got to work, Derek's paperwork was finished. He knew Reid had been going down to the tech area to see Gina before the group meeting, so when the younger man walked by Derek's office with a nod of hello, Derek slipped out and walked quickly to the bullpen.

Ten minutes later, he stood from Reid's chair behind his desk. After one last adjustment, he logged back out of the computer. Smirking at the laugh that burst from Prentiss, he strolled up the stairs, joining both her and JJ as they stood talking on the platform outside Hotch's office.

"You are so bad, Morgan," Prentiss said with a laugh. "Reid is going to kill you."

JJ smirked. "I guess we'll find out. Here he comes now."

Derek looked down to see Reid coming through the doorway of the bullpen, speaking animatedly to Penelope.

When his girl got to the group, she asked quietly, "What are you guys staring at?" Her eyes widened when she saw that they watching Reid as he walked toward his desk, stopping first to say hello to a few people on the way. "Oh no," she groaned. "What'd you do now?" Then she held up her hand. "No, don't answer that. I don't want to know."

"Relax, baby," he said in a whisper, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. "I took your advice."

Last night, while laying in bed, Penelope had said that the one-upping needed to end.

"It could get really, really ugly, Hot Stuff, and you don't want that. Be the bigger man."

Realizing that she was right—and Reid's trick _had_ been funny—he'd decided on a mellower prank this time.

Before Reid even made it to his desk, Hotch stepped out of his office and said, "Oh good, everyone's here. Briefing, please. I have a meeting with Strauss in thirty."

Reid detoured to the stairs, joining the rest of the group on the platform. Derek clapped him on the shoulder and then followed him and the rest of the team into the conference room.

~oOo~

Twenty-five minutes later, Hotch wrapped up the meeting and left for his meeting with Strauss. Spencer looked around at the rest of the group, noticing that no one seemed all that anxious to get back to work. Unfortunately, he himself had a report due soon for a prison in Minnesota, which needed a profiler's opinion on whether or not a convicted felon was safe to release.

"I've got to finish up that report," he said, looking around at his colleagues. He grabbed his iPad and small stack of files and left the conference room, heading straight for his desk.

Before sitting, he looked down—something he'd done every time since Morgan had put the whoopie cushion there—and finding nothing, dropped into the seat.

And went much lower than he'd expected.

_What the heck?_ His chair had been fine earlier...

He shrugged and reached down to grasp the handle that would raise it...and nothing happened. He tried again, and while the handle moved like it should, the chair still didn't raise.

"Looking good there, Spence," JJ said as she walked up, taking a seat at her still fairly new desk a few feet from his.

"He looks like Buddy, from _Elf_," Prentiss said, her teasing evident even to Spencer, who wasn't sure exactly what she was talking about.

He looked over at them. "I don't know what happened," he said, unable to hide his frustration. "It was fine when I got here this morning. I'll have to call down for a new one, I guess."

Touching the mouse to get his computer started, he tried the chair once more, to no avail. Another move of the mouse still gave no results. Irritated, he reached out and tapped the spacebar, gratified to hear the sound of the system waking up. As he waited, he continued trying to raise his chair while beginning to flip through the file he'd been carrying.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the screen change to the dark blue of the login page, and he typed in his password without even looking up from the file. After giving the computer plenty of time to finish loading, he reached for his mouse, and yet again, nothing happened. He stood, shoved his chair away lightly, and then got down on his hands and knees to crawl under his desk. He wanted to make sure the mouse hadn't just come unplugged. It wasn't cordless, so there were no batteries. The probability of his chair, which had been rather sturdy for the past seven years and his new optical mouse which he'd received only a week ago having a breakdown simultaneously seemed more minuscule by the second.

_Hmm, strange,_ Spencer thought after finding the cord securely seated into the back of the computer tower.

Crawling back out from under the desk, he brushed himself off and took his seat, feeling a little foolish, like a child sitting at the big boy table. He was so low compared to the desk. Picking up the mouse, he flipped it over, only to find a piece of clear tape secured across the optical lens of the mouse. The word "Gotcha!" was written in Morgan's distinctive block print in what looked to be black marker.

Whipping his head around, Spencer found the man in question standing with Rossi on the platform. He was speaking to the older agent but watching Spencer with a smirk as he tossed something gently up in the air, over and over, catching it in his hand.

"Very funny, Morgan," Spencer said, holding up his mouse as he pulled the sticky tape off the bottom and tossed it into the small, round can beside his desk. "Ha ha..."

Morgan just grinned at him.

Shaking his head, Spencer turned his attention back to the monitor, pleased when the mouse moved without issue. He clicked once on the file marked Minnesota – Reinhardt, and instead of opening like it should have, a menu popped up, like he'd hit the right mouse button instead of the left. He moved the mouse over and clicked to clear the menu, but the menu just seemed to appear in the new spot. Over and over, he tried it. Finally, close to boiling, he right clicked the mouse, which acted like the left normally did.

Giving a huff of annoyance, Spencer went through the motions of going to the Control Panel and into the Mouse settings, changing it back from left handed to right. Of course, it wasn't quite that easy, because several times, he hit the left button, which screwed it up, and he had to try again.

Finally, the mouse was fixed, and he pulled open the file, quickly reading through the information already written before pulling his keyboard to him and beginning where he'd left off in the report.

_Iapf ,ao jrbucjy.e ru oyantcbi dco .q[ _

_What the hell?_ That was supposed to say "Gary Reinhardt was convicted of stalking his ex-girlfriend," but that clearly was not what was showing on the screen.

Spencer tried typing it out more slowly, watching his fingers, but there was clearly something wrong.

He felt a hand clap his shoulder, and he looked up to find Morgan grinning.

"What?" he grumbled. "Haven't you done enough?"

Prentiss and JJ snickered, trying to smother their snorts behind their hands, but when Spencer glared at them, they gave up the fight and laughed aloud.

"Check your Region and Language settings, genius," Morgan said with a wink. "And here." He set something on the edge of the desk. "You'll need these." With that, he turned and walked away, grinning smugly over his shoulder as Spencer scowled at him.

He down and saw the screw and screwdriver, realizing immediately that Morgan had messed with the chair as well as the computer. With a growl, he stood again, grabbed the chair, and flipped it over.

Most people could handle disruptions, but Spencer Reid was not most people. He was methodical, he was planned, practiced, and organized. When something like this happened, it threw his entire day off. Morgan knew that, and he'd done it on purpose. Four hours later, he was still scowling at his screen, the slight headache he'd had growing over the hours to a merciless cluster migraine. It was so bad that he hadn't even been able to finish the Reinhardt file. It was going to be late, and Reid had never been late before in his life.

Damn that man. Showing Morgan up in front of his cadets wasn't nice, but tampering with Reid's professional integrity was worse!

That did it. He knew that whatever he had to do to get back for this one was going to have to be big...


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer still applies._

~oooOOOooo~

**Chapter 5**

As irritating as Morgan's pranks were, Spencer was having a great time figuring out just how devious and cunning his mind could be. He'd never been involved in things like this growing up; he was always grades above kids his own age in school, and his peers were never interested in hanging out with someone so much younger than they all were. He'd never been picked first for anything—unless it involved his brain—and no one had ever included him in pranks and the like. So for Derek Morgan—jock, ladies man, and all around popular guy—to be having so much fun pulling pranks on and being pranked by Spencer Reid... Well, in a way, Spencer felt honored.

It had been a week since Morgan had messed with Spencer's computer, and every moment apart from their most recent case, Spencer had been plotting his next move. Not unlike the flatulence joke, he was taking Morgan's idea of messing with the computer and was going to turn it around on the man in a grander scale. He had it all planned out. It would be doubly annoying and embarrassing for Morgan, because what Spencer had planned would take place—yet again—in front of Morgan's entire class of rookies.

In addition to teaching self-defense, Morgan also taught a class on the obsessional crimes aspect of profiling. The rookies were not all going to be profilers, of course—not everyone was cut out to do what Spencer and his colleagues did—but even a non-profiler FBI agent needed to have some background and knowledge. So each member of the team, aside from Hotch, taught a course in their specialized area: Rossi, hostage negotiation; JJ, dealing with the media; Prentiss, linguistics. Even Garcia taught the new recruits how better to utilize the computer programs the FBI provided so they weren't totally reliant on the tech team.

This weekend, barring any new case, Morgan was going to be teaching his class both Saturday and Sunday. It was already Friday evening, and Spencer was headed to Morgan's office, ready to set up the latest in their string of pranks. He'd had the pleasure of sitting in on a few of these classes Morgan taught, and it was always the same thing. _Professor Morgan_ would come in, introduce himself and spend a few minutes going over his background with the FBI and Chicago P.D. for anyone who hadn't been in his self-defense course, and then get started with his instructions, never really paying attention to what was actually being shown on the screen behind him.

That, Spencer thought with glee, was going to be his downfall.

~oOo~

Derek whistled as he made his way into the large room his class was being held in. The week had been quiet—only one case earlier in the week that they'd solved easily and the rest of the time spent home with their families. Derek and Penelope had gone out to dinner once, but otherwise, they'd made dinner together at his place or hers, watching movies or catching up on some comedies on TV they both enjoyed.

Most of the class filtered in shortly after him, calling out their hellos as Derek set up his laptop, connecting it wirelessly to the projector on the other side of the room. His slideshow was already queued up and ready to go, so he grabbed the stack of papers from the desk and begin to pass them out. Most of the information, he would be going over with the slides, but having it all on paper already allowed the rookies to pay attention to what he was saying without worrying about taking notes.

Once the class was all in, papers in hand, and the door closed, Derek picked up the projector's remote control and came around to the front of the desk, sitting on the edge.

"Welcome to Obsessional Crimes 101," Derek started. "For those that don't know me, I'm Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan."

For several minutes, Derek talked about his credentials and gave a general overview of the course. Then he hit the button to advance to the first slide.

"What _is_ an obsessional crime?"

~oOo~

Ten minutes later, Derek was going over some of the more well-known Unsubs whose crimes fit the class when he noted a handful of the rookies hiding smirks and grins. Since he hadn't said anything funny, he assumed something had happened that he hadn't heard or seen—or smelled—so he ignored it and went on.

When the same thing happened less than two minutes later, he stopped speaking, crossed his arms over his chest, and focused his intense stare on the room.

"Someone want to tell me what's so funny?" he finally asked. "I'm positive it isn't Mike Hicks."

As he gestured back toward the screen with his shoulder, the current slide caught his eye. Turning, his mouth gaped open. A second later, he snapped his mouth shut and growled quietly.

Instead of the photo of Hicks along with information about his crimes, the screen was black with the words "I love Dr. Spencer Reid!" written in big, bold, yellow font.

"What the...!"

Derek clicked the remote to go to the next slide, but instead of what he had planned to show, it was similar to the one before it. However, instead of proclaiming his love for his colleague, it said, "I don't wash my hands before coming out of the restroom."

The entire group of rookies broke into laughter, enjoying Derek's discomfort.

Frustrated, he clicked the remote again. On and on it went...

"I stuff my pants with tube socks!"

"Spencer Reid is my hero."

"I cry post-coitus."

"Everything I know about women, I learned from Reid."

By the time the next real slide he'd actually prepared himself appeared, Derek felt like he wanted to either hide in his office for the next year or wrap his fingers around Reid's skinny neck and strangle the kid to death—or maybe even both. At least he hadn't been here to witness Derek's humiliation...

Ignoring the laughter from the highly-amused rookies—and damn, it was funny, he had to give the kid that!—Derek pulled out his cell phone and typed a message to Reid.

_Nicely played, kid. Beware... Payback's a bitch. ~M_

"All right, all right, settle down," Derek ordered sternly to the classroom of snickering agents.

Just before he started talking, planning to pick back up where the real slides started, a light tapping on the door to the room caught his attention. He looked up to see Reid standing there, grinning at him through the glass window in the door. The younger agent was holding a camcorder in one hand and giving Derek a thumbs up with the other.

_Why that little...!_

Suddenly feeling like his head would pop off his shoulders from all the steam he was building up, Derek stepped toward the door. He made it a second step before Reid's amusement turned to surprise and then quickly to fear, and then the man turned and bolted away.

Derek smirked and turned back to the screen before settling onto the desk once more. It was a good thing he knew this material like the back of his hand, because there was nothing on his mind the rest of the night except how to get revenge.

~oooOOOooo~

_A/N: Thank you to Kricket Williams & Drotuno for helping me come up with the phrases to put on the slides._


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer still applies._

~oooOOOooo~

**Chapter 6**

It had been four days since Reid's trick with the slideshow. For days, Derek had gone back and forth, trying to figure out what to do in return to pay the kid back. He'd asked Penelope, but she had long since sworn off helping either man. She still had the notion that both men should let it go before someone got hurt, but Derek couldn't let it end with Reid one upping him. Derek had whined, saying that she was his girlfriend so she should be backing him up, but she had refused, telling him Spencer was her friend, too, so she was staying neutral.

"_Baby... Just one more, and I'm done."_

_Penelope shook her head, causing her earrings to jingle. "Oh, no. I'm staying out of this!"_

"_Sweetheart..."_

His plea had been unheard. Before she'd walked away, Penelope had stuck her fingers in her ears and begun trilling in a singsong voice, "La la la la...I'm not listening..." It had reminded Derek of his sister Sarah's little girls.

So...he was left to figure something out on his own. That was all he was thinking about as he worked on his truck. The dome light had a short in it, and he was rewiring it before heading over to Penelope's to watch a movie. As he worked, he tried to think of ideas on how to get back at Reid. All he needed was one more. One huge, well thought out prank that would out-genius the genius.

Connecting the new wire with the old, Derek had a sudden flash of inspiration. It would take some planning and he'd have to set it up at the right time, but he thought he could do it. He'd need the kid out of his apartment for a few hours, but he thought he remembered Reid mentioning something about a date that weekend with the girl from the tech department.

That was it, Derek decided. Saturday afternoon, he would break into Reid's apartment.

~oOo~

Sure enough, mid-day on Saturday, Derek told Penelope he'd be back in a few hours and drove quickly over to Reid's place. He watched from his parking spot at the far end of the lot as Reid walked out to his little car—the kid had one of those "green" vehicles that didn't need gas—and drove away in the opposite direction. Derek knew he hadn't been seen. He'd ridden his motorcycle over because it was easier to hide than his big-ass truck, and when he'd gotten there a few minutes before, he'd found a great place behind a minivan where he could park and wait.

After a couple of minutes, he strolled casually up to Reid's apartment, and once he got to the door, he made quick work of picking at the lock. He knew the alarm code—after what had happened to Elle years ago, all the members of the team knew one another's codes—so he shut the door behind him and entered the six digit number before the alarm could sound.

Now all he had to do was make sure he was out of there as soon as possible. He only hoped the pants Reid seemed quite fond of were clean and easily found. His entire plan hinged on being able to find the pants he was sure his friend would wear to work at some point during the next week.

After only two minutes of searching—the man was meticulously neat, so it was easy to look through the items hanging in the closet—Derek found the khaki slacks he was looking for and grabbed them, settling at the kitchen table and pulling out everything he'd need for the prank.

Careful not to wrinkle the pants too much, he started at the cuffs at the bottom of the legs, and then moved to the waistband. It had worked for Reid. Why not let it work for him, too?

Just over an hour later, the deed was done, everything was back to the way it had been before he'd arrived, and Derek was speeding out of the parking lot, on his way back to Penelope's apartment. He couldn't keep the satisfied grin from his face, more than anxious for the new week to start.

Reid would never know what had hit him...

~oOo~

Spencer hitched his messenger bag over his shoulder, beeped the lock on his Prius, and walked through the parking garage, nodding at the few people he passed. He walked by Garcia's big orange Caddy—it _was_ a cool car, even if it did wreak havoc on the environment—and saw Morgan holding open the driver's side door for the woman herself.

"Morning, sunshine!" Garcia called, waving.

Feeling himself smile automatically at her cheerful disposition, Spencer waved and slowed, waiting for the pair to catch up to him. "Morning, guys," he said as they joined him, Morgan's arm securely around Garcia's shoulder.

"Morning, Reid," Morgan said, flashing his bright white grin at Spencer. "Have a good weekend?"

Nodding, Spencer answered, "I did, actually. I had a date with Gina Abernathy—from the tech pool?—on Saturday."

"Ooh, where'd you go?" Garcia asked. "Did you have fun?" Ever since she and Morgan had finally owned up to their feelings for one another, Garcia had made it her mission to find him a girlfriend.

Spencer smiled. "We did! We went to the Tech Expo in D.C. this weekend. There were so many interesting new consoles and graphics, and a fascinating display on the invention of the personal computer. Did you know there has been a war in place for nearly half a century between IBM and several other manufacturers? Not to _take credit_ for the invention; rather to _discredit_ one another instead." He chuckled to himself. "Kind of like what didn't come first: the chicken or the egg."

His voice trailed off when no one laughed at his joke, which he thought was rather amusing, himself. Gina had enjoyed it when he'd mentioned it to her on Saturday, as well. He saw the glazed over look in his coworkers' eyes. Even Garcia, who was just as much a tech geek as Gina and even more so than Spencer himself, looked a little like she was smiling and nodding on the outside while pondering her grocery list in her mind.

"Well, anyway," he said quickly to pull them back into the conversation, "we had a wonderful time. I believe we are going out again this weekend, if we don't have a case."

"That's great, kid," Morgan said, clapping him on the shoulder as Garcia nodded and grinned at him. "Now, tell us...what base are you sittin' at?"

Spencer just shook his head and rolled his eyes. _As if he would kiss and tell..._

By that time, the three of them had made it into the building. Garcia went through first, putting her bag on the belt to be x-rayed and stepping through the scanner. As soon as she was cleared, she pulled out a little case from her bag and began slipping on her jewelry—a ritual Spencer had seen many times over the years. She'd explained once that it was just easier to decorate the cake after the frosting was inspected... Her words, not his. He guessed that was easier than having to remove everything before going through security and then having to put it all on again.

Morgan went next, stepping through with ease, and picked up his keys and guns on the other side.

Then Spencer dropped his bag on the belt like Garcia had. On autopilot, he added the things from his pocket and his gun on his hip to the dish beside the guard and stepped through the scanner.

_Beep!_

The machine sang out its warning, making him jump.

_Huh,_ he thought. _Maybe I forgot to take my keys out of my pocket?_

"Sir, uh, Agent, uh, Dr. Reid," the security guard—Spencer remembered his name was Johnson—stammered. "Please step back this way. Did you get everything out of your pockets that might set this off?"

Spencer stepped back to the other side, flinching when the machine beeped loudly again, and stuck his hands in his pockets. Triumphantly, he pulled out a penny he'd missed the first time, tossed it into the dish on the side, and stepped back through the arched metal detector.

_Beep!_

Again, Spencer jumped in surprise, unaccustomed to having the annoying machine sound off around him.

"Please step back again," Johnson said once again, although this time, Spencer noticed the man's tone of voice was a bit more hard, not as nervous or reverent as it had been the first time.

Activity around the security checkpoint at the entrance to the building had come to a standstill.

Spencer noticed Morgan and Garcia standing on the other side, waiting patiently for him. He gave them a shrug and pulled out his wallet, certain there was nothing in there to make the scanner sound an alarm, but added it to the dish on the side anyway. Satisfied there was nothing else in his pockets, he stepped through once again.

_Beep!_

Spencer growled under his breath. "I'm sorry," he told Johnson apologetically. "I'm not sure what it could be. There's nothing left in my pock—"

"That's fine, sir. Step back over here, and I'll use the wand."

The guard was totally serious by this point, and Spencer knew to just shut his mouth. He knew he wasn't carrying anything that made him a danger, and he was certain the man would realize that soon enough.

Stepping back through the scanner—and trying to ignore the loud beep as it rang again—Spencer held his arms up and out from his side.

The security guard held up the long wand scanner, running it first up one arm, across Spencer's chest, and then down the other arm. From there, he ran it down Spencer's chest, past his groin, and down his legs. When no alarm came, the guard moved around to Spencer's back, giving him a clear view of Morgan, who was obviously trying to smother a grin.

"Sonofabitch!" Spencer cried when the wand beeped an alarm.

When Morgan—the man he considered an annoying older brother—burst into laughter, Spencer knew.

"Morgan!" he roared, seeing red. "What did you do to my pants?"

~oOo~

Thirty minutes later, Spencer walked into the bullpen and threw his bag down at his desk, along with the stripped electrical wires he had found stitched loosely into the bottom cuffs and the waistband in the back of his pants.

"What's that?" Emily asked, pointing to the wires.

Spencer glared in the direction of the hall and Morgan's office, even knowing the other man couldn't see him, and huffed, "That's Morgan's idea of a joke. I'm never going to get the feeling of that security pat down from my head, thanks to him."

If there was one thing Spencer Reid knew, it was that Morgan was not going to get off as easily next time...


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer still applies._

~oooOOOooo~

**Chapter 7**

Derek pulled into the parking garage on his motorcycle and parked beside Penelope's Esther. His Baby Girl had come in half an hour early for a meeting with the others on the Tech team, so they had decided to take separate vehicles. After work, he'd follow her to her apartment to drop of the car, and then they'd ride his cycle to dinner.

When he stepped up to the elevator after clearing security, he realized he was standing behind Reid. It had been a few days since his prank with the wires, and he was just waiting for the kid to get him back.

"Morning, Reid," Derek said, clapping the younger man on his shoulder and making him jump.

Coming just shy of squealing, Reid whipped around. "Don't scare me like that," he huffed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"What's wrong, kid? Why so jumpy?"

Reid frowned. "I have a bad feeling something's wrong..." Looking around to make sure no one was watching, he lowered his voice and said, "Hotch just texted me that he wants to see me in his office ASAP when I get inside."

Derek shrugged. "I'm sure it's nothing. You'll be fine. You've done nothing wrong, so don't worry about it. He probably just wants to assign you a new case to look over or get your signature or something."

Reid brightened. "I'm sure you're right," he exclaimed with a nod. "I was coming up with a lot of scenarios that are worse than a new assignment or a signature, like I'd made a tactical mistake in an estimate or my gun certification had expired or...well, you get the idea." He smiled. "Thanks, Morgan."

While Reid was droning on, Derek was barely listening because he was pulling out his phone after feeling it buzz at his hip.

_See me immediately when you get into work. ~Hotch_

Worried now, although he wasn't sure why—damn the kid for putting bad thoughts in his head—he slowly closed his phone.

"Morgan?"

Derek looked up and realized Reid and a few others were on the elevator, holding the doors open for him. "Sorry," he said, clearing his throat as he stepped inside.

Reid gave him a worried, quizzical look, but Derek shook his head once, so Reid backed off and left Derek to his thoughts.

~oOo~

Spencer sat there in Hotch's office beside Morgan, his mouth open as he tried valiantly to hold back the tears threatening to form.

"We're what?" Morgan growled, standing immediately.

Rather than look at the two men, Spencer looked back down at the so-called pink slip—which made no sense, really. It wasn't pink at all... It was a plain white sheet of paper, the FBI letterhead at the top and the formal wording below, featuring Hotch's signature, as well as that of Section Chief Erin Strauss. The words blurred together in front of his eyes, and Spencer cursed his eidetic memory when even looking away from the paper didn't bring him relief from the notice that he had been fired.

_Shit-canned._

_Given the old heave-ho._

"I'm sorry, Derek...Spencer," Hotch said, the grave tone of voice causing Spencer to look up into the eyes of his—now former—boss. "Word of the pranks you guys were pulling got to Strauss, and she forced my hand."

The thunderous scowl on Morgan's face showed his feelings. "With no warning? No chance to work off a demerit?"

"Unfortunately, it's out of my hands," Hotch said, frowning. His usually stern face was still serious, but Spencer could see an underlying sadness there, too.

"Th-There's nothing we can do?" he asked, frowning. He'd never been fired before. He hadn't a clue what he was going to do now. This seemed like such an overreaction to what had been just a fun prank war between friends.

"Come on, Hotch," Morgan pleaded. He took a deep breath. "Look, it's my fault. I know I've had my run ins with Strauss and upper management—I probably deserve this—but the kid here...he's never even had a verbal warning before. Can't you do something for him?"

Listening to Morgan defend him, the big brother he'd always wanted and never had, caused Spencer to feel stinging behind his eyes. A wash of guilt and sadness rolled over him. God...if only he'd let things go after that stupid whoopee cushion, they never would have been in this situation. He'd just been having so much fun...feeling like he finally—truly—fit in with the cool, popular kids.

Hotch shook his head. "I'm sorry, but you guys brought it into the office. The stories about Reid's computer and chair got around because of the others outside of our group in the bullpen and the pranks in front of the trainees...and the prank at security was the final straw for Chief Strauss.

"There's more, I'm afraid," he said, frowning. "I've been given orders that you are to gather anything personal from your desks—and your office, Morgan—and you will be immediately escorted from the building. I tried to tell them you didn't need an escort out, but Strauss insisted. Because she isn't in the office at the moment, I will walk you out myself."

Spencer nodded, the buzzing in his head getting louder as reality crept in.

"Go on and get your things. I'll meet you by the elevators in ten."

Trying to smile at Hotch—it wasn't truly his fault, after all—Spencer ended up grimacing more than anything, and then he walked out behind Morgan, who ignored everyone as he headed out of the bullpen.

~oOo~

Derek fumed as he stalked down the hall, feeling like he was ready to knock someone's teeth in. He stopped at Penelope's office, but her door was still shut, and when he turned the knob, it didn't open. Realizing she was still at her meeting, he moved on to his office and began gathering his things.

There wasn't much, he realized, as he set things on the desk—the pictures and gizmos P had put in there when she'd redone the room for him, a few other pictures of his family and Penelope, his dad's old St. Christopher medal, an old paperback, his challenge coins, and his go bag. He stuffed everything into the bag and grabbed his keys, so angry he could spit nails.

He didn't know what he'd do with himself now. He had enough money in the bank to be comfortable for a while, and he would be free to do more work on the houses he owned so they would be ready for sale quicker than he'd anticipated. But damn if he didn't like his job.

Giving one last glance around, Derek turned off the light and locked the door before turning and heading back to the elevator, where Reid and Hotch were already waiting.

All three men were silent as they stepped into the elevator. It was an uncomfortable silence, until midway down, when Hotch cleared his throat.

"For what its worth," he said, "I am sorry. I will gladly give you references for wherever you go next if you'd like. I know that doesn't mean much, given the circumstances, but it's the least I can do."

Derek nodded once, trying not to be angry at the man he liked and respected so much, but he stayed quiet, afraid that if he opened his mouth, things would come spilling out that he would later regret. He noticed that Reid was quiet, too, although the younger man looked more sad than angry.

The three of them went past security, and Derek was glad they didn't have to do anything on the way out of the building like they had to do coming into the building. It was humiliating enough, knowing that people were wondering and guessing as to what was going on.

Just before they got to the door, Hotch stopped and held out his hand. "I'll need your keys, work cell phones, and IDs," he said simply.

Reid had apparently been thinking more clearly than Derek, because he had everything ready and handed it to Hotch as Derek pulled the small key ring containing all his work keys out of his pocket, unclipped his work phone, and grabbed his badge from his back pocket.

"Thank you," Hotch said as Derek handed it to him.

Derek nodded once and turned to follow Reid out of the building.

They had taken two steps outside when a noise like a muffled laugh broke Derek out of his trance, and he narrowly avoided running into Reid's back when the man stopped short in front of him.

As soon as Derek moved to stand beside the kid, he started to ask what was wrong...but stopped when he saw the group at the bottom of the steps.

Penelope, Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi were all huddled in a group about three feet from them, grinning and smirking.

Before Derek could ask what the hell they all thought was funny, Hotch walked out and made his way to the group.

"Gotcha," Hotch said, grinning as the rest of the team began laughing in earnest.

"You _pranked_ us?" Derek asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

Hotch tossed Derek his ID and then walked over to give them back the rest of their things. "The pranks were getting out of hand," he explained. "I had to think of a way to get you guys to knock it off, especially at work—" he arched a brow and looked at both Reid and Derek "—before this really happened."

"The letters?" Derek asked, pulling it out of his pocket where he'd shoved it after leaving Hotch's office. "They're fake?"

Hotch nodded to reassure him. "Those are the only two copies Garcia made."

Penelope's eyes grew wide when Hotch let that little tidbit slip.

"Baby..." Derek raised an eyebrow at her.

She grinned innocently. "I was just following the Boss Man's orders, Sweet Cheeks."

The look Derek gave her promised he'd get even—but even he knew whatever punishment he doled out would be enjoyed by the both of them.

"And Strauss's signature?" Reid asked, looking squinty-eyed at Hotch.

Rossi raised a hand. "All me. I've seen it enough that I have the damn thing memorized. It's worse than mine is, so I was able to fake it well enough that you didn't notice."

"Sonofabitch!"

That set off a round of laughter again, and this time, even Derek and Reid joined in.

"So truce?" Hotch asked as they all quieted again.

Derek and Reid looked at one another for a moment and then nodded. "Truce," they echoed.

**The End**


End file.
